


Call in the Air Stike (Tell Them to Make the Drop)

by WednesdaysDaughter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Derek is a jerk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, I hate tagging so much, M/M, Scott is an awesome friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdaysDaughter/pseuds/WednesdaysDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How do you tell your best friend that the guy you were slowly falling in love with flat out said you were nothing but a waste of space, and you’ve secretly felt that way about yourself once or twice on a bad day? The answer is, you don’t."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame "Happy Alone" by Earlimart because I was listening to it earlier and simply had to write this fic. The song doesn't even have a happy ending either so I'm just like 'Oh shit, do I have to do this to the guys?' The answer is yes, absolutely. It does have an ending that is hopeful though, so don't let the tags scare you too much.

“Why are you being such a stubborn ass about this?”

Stiles’ chest stings as his lungs pull in the air they’d been screaming for during each second spent running through the darkening woods. His legs ache and his head is pounding: Stiles’ tongue is dry but he tries to wet his lips out of habit. His fingers itch with a restless energy and his heart is trying desperately to escape his chest. Whether it’s due to the adrenaline or pain, Stiles isn’t sure, but he wishes it would calm down and let him hear the words he’s throwing at Derek.

He’s tossing the words so they’ll cut like knives, and leave a mark, but they’re more like life preservers if Stiles is being honest with himself. He’s not sure if he’s trying to save himself or Derek though; maybe both of them.

“Call it a character flaw,” Derek snaps and Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I call it being a coward actually.”

Derek stiffens at Stiles’ words, but doesn’t make a move towards him.

Shadows slowly creep across the ground as the sun sets. The windows of the half-finished house reflect the sun’s rays and the clearing looks a little brighter than the woods behind them. It’s not cold, but the look in Derek’s eyes make Stiles shiver.

He’s been shut out.

“You need to go home.”

Stiles takes a couple steps towards Derek whose body is so tense, like a stone statue. Stiles can barely make out the movement of Derek’s chest as he breathes shallowly.

“And you need to quit running away and answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say?” Derek grits through his teeth and Stiles can’t stop the twisted laugh that falls from his lips. He doesn’t notice the way Derek’s body flinches slightly, like his laugh was a punch that just missed its mark.

“Try the truth; I hear it will set you free.” Stiles folds his arms over his chest in an attempt to protect himself from whatever Derek has to say.

“That’s rich coming from you. Where does your dad think you are right now Stiles?”

It’s a low blow and Derek hates the way his words crash into Stiles and make him wince in guilt. Stiles’ eyes fill with anger and his voice is low when he replies.

“I lie to protect people, you lie because you’re scared of people realizing just how fucked up you really are!”

The clearing holds its breath and Stiles’ stares at Derek in horror as if he hadn’t been the one to speak. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Stiles wants to pull the words back into his mouth and swallow them like the bitter pills his mother had in her medicine cabinet when she was sick. Stiles’ chest aches for a different reason as Derek turns around and heads towards the house.

“Derek, wait… man I shouldn’t have said that,” Stiles says shakily and he takes a few tentative steps forward.

“Like I care what you think.” Derek’s voice is low and harsh and it hits Stiles like a ton of bricks.

He reaches his hand out to touch Derek’s back, but Derek spins around and the red glare of his eyes stop Stiles dead in his tracks.

“Why would I care about what you think? You’re just some stupid kid playing wolf, pretending like you’re someone special when you’re not. You’re not pack Stiles, you are nothing!”

Stiles thinks his heart stops before restarting and beating out an SOS painfully against his ribs.

‘ _Well, I did ask for the truth_ ’ he thinks and the thought bounces around in his head: A malicious echo that mixes with Derek’s words until it becomes white noise blocking out the blood rushing through his ears.

Stiles nods and realizes his hand is still reaching towards Derek. He drops it as if burned and turns on his heels and lets the woods swallow him up.

Derek doesn’t come after him.

 - - - - - -

Contrary to the conflicting mess that is relationship lore, Stiles does not go catatonic when he gets home.

Take that Bella Swan.

He takes a shower, turns off his phone, and crawls between his sheets. The sun rises the next morning and Stiles takes a deep breath before getting out of bed. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

Stiles doesn’t expect Scott to notice anything, it took his best friend a while to realize that he and Derek were occasionally swapping spit, but when Scott asks him what’s wrong at his locker Stiles vows to doubt him less.

How do you tell your best friend that the guy you were slowly falling in love with flat out said you were nothing but a waste of space, and you’ve secretly felt that way about yourself once or twice on a bad day? The answer is, you don’t.

“I’m just tired,” Stiles assures Scott and it seems to work. That becomes his main excuse in the following months and every time he says it, his body starts to agree. Scott suggests warm milk or hot tea before bed and if he looks more worried every time Stiles lies to him, he tries to ignore the guilt bubbling in his stomach.

Isaac and Boyd don’t necessarily ignore him, but then again even when he and Derek were a ‘thing’ they didn’t treat him differently. Sometimes he’ll catch Isaac staring sadly at him and it makes Stiles’ throat tighten uncomfortably. He doesn’t want pity from Derek’s puppies and it makes him angry: Not angry enough to say anything though – he doesn’t want to risk Scott finding out and threatening to beat Derek into the ground.

Stiles likes his best friend breathing thank you very much.

Allison offers him sympathetic smiles and kind eyes that make him glad she’s still in his life despite the thin ice she and Scott are carefully skating across. It hasn’t been easy for them, but Stiles thinks they’ll pull through in the long run.

Lydia seems to know exactly what’s eating at him and offers to take him shopping, as if spending money he doesn’t have will cure his heart’s woes. He goes once so she’ll have something to distract her from the Jackson shaped hole in her heart and she buys him a pair of jeans so tight they’re bound to attract someone to fit in the Derek shaped hole in his.

Stiles appreciates her optimism and Lydia appreciates his silence.

Being in school makes it easy to disregard the absence of Derek in his life. Beacon Hills has been quiet since the Alpha pack skipped town. Sure, there was the occasional bump in the night, but he turned a blind eye unless the body count was too high or Derek hadn’t dealt with it yet. Stiles tries not to feel bad when his dad makes an offhanded comment about him actually being home more.

He tries not to think about how many nights he spent at Derek’s loft, using Scott as a cover. Some nights Stiles doesn’t sleep because the memories of how Derek’s hands felt against his back are too close to the surface. He had tried taking all of those moments and shoving them into a black corner in the back of his mind, but some refused to be locked away. When he’s so tired he almost falls out of his chair, he can see every kiss replay like an old time projector behind his eyelids. Those nights are the worst.

Eventually the delicate peace he finds at school is shattered and then it’s hit after hit until Stiles feels the claws of panic sink into his chest.

 - - - - - -

“I haven’t seen Derek in a while, did you two fight or something?”

Stiles doesn’t choke on his water, but it’s a near thing. The cafeteria is loud and busy as it always is, but Stiles can only hear Scott’s question ringing in his ears. Their table goes silent and Stiles can feel everyone’s eyes on him waiting for an answer. Isaac and Boyd straighten in their seats while Lydia and Allison trade concerned looks. Danny and Scott just watch him patiently and Stiles knows he can’t really lie anymore.

“Well, yeah you could say that. We uh… broke up I guess you’d say about two months ago,” Stiles sighs and tries not to wince at Scott’s indignant exclamation.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you break up with him or…?”

Stiles feels incredibly uneasy and his face is warm and he’s pretty sure his heart’s beating way too fast to be considered healthy.

“Whoa dude, calm down. You’re freaking me out here,” Scott says gingerly and reaches out to touch his arm. It’s too late though, Stiles is miles away – traveling back in time to that night when Derek confirmed his deep fears of uselessness. He’s nothing and he’s shaking apart.

Stiles doesn’t feel his knee hit the table when he throws himself up and runs out of the cafeteria. He can feel everyone’s stare and it makes him run faster. He just needs to get away, just far enough to breathe without using their air. He finds a bathroom and splashes water on his face, breathing quickly but not hyperventilating.

He fights the tightening in his chest, the burning of his heart, and the throbbing of his head just long enough to slide down the wall and curl into a ball. It takes all Stiles has to stifle the noises trapped in his throat and he wipes angrily at his wet eyes before slowing his breath enough to where the twinge in his chest lessens and he’s able to unfurl his limbs. Stiles tries to relax his muscles and he leans his head back against the cold wall and just breathes.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, but when he opens his eyes Isaac is standing in front of him. Stiles can hear Scott and the others outside and he huffs in amusement when he hears the threats Scott is determined to make Boyd pass onto Derek.

“He’s miserable too,” Isaac says and Stiles doesn’t reply with the ‘ _Good. He should be_ ,’ his mind supplies him with. Stiles doesn’t really think anyone deserves to feel this wrecked and run through – even if they dealt the fatal blow.

Isaac offers him a hand up and Stiles takes it. He nods once and goes to grab Scott before they’re late for their next class.

Scott spends the entire way to their lockers jumping from apologizing for upsetting Stiles and calling Derek an asshole who doesn’t deserve him. Stiles’ love for Scott increases tenfold when Scott offers to take Stiles to the Jungle so he can dance his heartbreak away in a crowd of attractive sweaty men. Stiles shakes his head, but says he’s up for a weekend of scary movies and unhealthy snacks that make him regret having a stomach the following day.

“I’ll bring the Saw movies,” Scott agrees and throws his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and proceeds to insult Derek – from his taste in décor to his colorless wardrobe all the way to class. Stiles can’t remember laughing so hard in weeks, though it was a very bittersweet feeling in the end.

Stiles thinks about Derek on his way home and as he makes dinner that night. He half expects Derek to be standing by his window, and he isn’t sure why he’s so disappointed when he opens the door and Derek’s not there.

‘ _You miss him_ ,’ his mind coos gently and Stiles wants to deny it until he’s blue in the face. He wants to break something or shout obscenities out his window, but he settles for killing Orcs on the Xbox until his eyes start to get heavy. He doesn’t have class in the morning so he turns his alarm off before sliding into bed and letting sleep carry him into the dark.

He’s not asleep long when he hears the familiar opening of his window. The thing is, Stiles imagined he heard that sound for weeks after they broke up. Part of him thinks it’s just his imagination playing a mean prank on him like it had done many times, but when he feels the cool air on his face he knows it’s not in his head anymore.

Stiles cracks an eye open and sees Derek standing by his desk, body illuminated by the moonlight outside. He doesn’t pretend to be asleep, he knows Derek can hear how his heart kicked it up a notch and he probably heard the hitch in his breath too.

“Long time no see,” Stiles utters sitting up and laying his arms across his knees.

Derek doesn’t say anything and Stiles tries not to take it personally. He waits as patiently as he can for Derek to speak and after a couple of minutes Stiles’ is done.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here and quite frankly if you’re here to recruit my superb researching abilities you can just shove it. I hope that whatever monster has come to Beacon Hills scratches your car and rips your leather jacket,” Stiles huffs in annoyance before moving to lie back down in bed.

“Isaac told me you had a panic attack in school today.”

Stiles freezes and looks back at Derek who seems to be on edge standing in his room. Werewolves don’t really fidget, but Derek is and it makes Stiles curious.

“It wasn’t a full attack,” Stiles replies and before Derek can speak he asks, “Why do you care anyway?”

Derek’s head snaps up at this and his body language is screaming ‘pissed off’ but Stiles doesn’t understand what’s happening right now so he just shrugs. As soon as it came, the anger leaves quickly and Derek stands there defeated and Stiles is even more confused.

“I care,” Derek whispers into the darkness and Stiles tries very hard not to breathe too loudly. He takes the small bud of hope and traps it in his fist for now, unwilling to let it bloom only to be ripped apart again.

Derek senses his hesitation and makes towards the window, but he pauses when he sees Stiles make a move to reach out and grab his arm.

Stiles stops when Derek looks at him and sighs, wiping a hand over his face as he tries to gather his thoughts into nice little boxes.

“Look, it’s like two in the morning and I am exhausted. I’m also really confused and pissed off and I can’t possibly be expected to deal with whatever this is. I mean, it’s not like I can forget what you said and no – I don’t care what you have to say about that right now because Isaac told me you were miserable and a small part of me is willing to believe you said all those horrible things so I would let you go and if that’s the case then fuck you Derek. Just fuck you so hard for doing that to me and I should probably kick you out of my house and tell you to stay away for like ever, but I’m really tired and it’s cold in my room now so just shut up, get in bed, and we’ll cross all those bridges tomorrow morning when I’ve made us pancakes or something.”

Derek stares at him in disbelief and after what feels like hours, he finally moves. He shuts the window and begins to strip down to his underwear before hesitantly sliding into the bed. Stiles watches him and tries not to make any noises indicating how nice it felt to have Derek in bed with him again – even if it was just to sleep. He turns his back to Derek and waits for him to wrap himself around Stiles like he used to. Stiles is almost asleep when he feels Derek throw an arm over his side and pull him closer to his chest.

Stiles melts into the embrace and bites back his grin when Derek buries his face in his shoulder.

“You’re still an asshole,” Stiles says quietly.

“I know.”

“And we’re going to have a painfully long and emotional talk tomorrow that you can’t just run from if it gets uncomfortable.”

“I know.” Derek’s breath ghosts over Stiles’ ear and he laughs a little at the sensation.

“Scott’s out for your blood so you might have to take a punch or two from him to satisfy his best friend duties.”

Derek hums in reply and Stiles can feel Derek slipping into sleep and it makes him want to turn around and kiss him, but he holds back. He’s not there yet and maybe after tomorrow he will be.

“I missed you.”

Derek’s breath hitches at the confession and his arms tighten around Stiles and he presses a tender kiss on his neck. Stiles is warm and feels exhaustion take him over after Derek replies softly.

“I missed you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes pancakes, Derek growls and apologizes in his own way, and the big bad talk doesn't end up being that big and bad - but it accomplishes what it needs to and that is, kisses: Lots and lots of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to a lot of songs to help inspire the end of this fic. This chapter would not work with me though and today I finally decided I was going to make it work. I really wanted to get this done before classes resume on Monday too, so yay me. I feel pretty good about this being the end of this fic and I hope you all are too.

It’s the stifling heat against his back that wakes him.

Stiles’ eyes flutter open and he spends a few minutes just looking around his room. The sun streams through the bottom of his window and the house is comfortably quiet, so Stiles figures it’s just after eight and his dad left for work roughly an hour ago. He stretches a little, his muscles relaxed and warm due to the body curled up behind him.

The night’s events creep into his mind slowly and Stiles allows himself a minute to be happy that Derek came back before pushing the emotion away and reaching out for one more appropriate for the situation. Stiles managed to slip out of his bed without waking Derek, which surprised him a little. ‘ _He must be really tired_ ,” Stiles thought and he remembered how little sleep he got the first few days after their fight.

Shaking his head to clear it of the sympathy threatening to take over, Stiles headed to the bathroom and then downstairs to the kitchen. While he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the talk they were going to have, Stiles really wanted those pancakes he mentioned. He tried not to think too much about the werewolf in his bed as he gathered the supplies he needed. Stiles hummed under his breath, not really paying attention to the song, and for a few blissful moments it was like any other morning where school was the farthest thing from him mind and the most important item at hand was flipping the pancakes before they burned. Cooking was safe – cooking was familiar and the only risky thing Stiles did was try a new spice or accidentally set the timer wrong.

By the time Stiles flips the last pancake, Derek is standing in the doorway and they both get caught in the memory of the last time Stiles had made them both breakfast. That had been a good morning and Stiles briefly wondered if that trend would follow through or fall flat this time.

Derek eventually moved into the kitchen and grabbed their plates from the cabinet along with glasses and silverware. Stiles filled the plates with pancakes and Derek poured orange juice into their glasses and placed them on the table. It didn’t feel awkward dancing around each other in the kitchen like they went through his routine every day, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Stiles was waiting for Derek to walk out the front door and never return and Derek was waiting for Stiles to kick him out for good.

 They ate in silence, occasionally looking up from their plates to glance at each other. Derek was trying to be discrete about it, Stiles could care less if he was caught staring. Stiles finished first and looked up the same time Derek did and when their eyes met, Stiles couldn’t help at chuckle and Derek scowled. It was just like old times, minus the licking of syrup off each other’s fingers. Stiles snapped out of that headspace swiftly and practically launched himself out of his seat to get away from Derek.

He was supposed to be mad and wary, not fond and horny.

Derek gave no hint that he heard Stiles’ heart rate increase nor did he react to the faint scent of arousal that came and went quicker than Derek could blink. When he finished, Derek took his dishes to the sink, where Stiles rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. The kitchen fell silent once Stiles finished and he turned around and leaned his back against the counter as he tried to think of what to say that didn’t immediately piss Derek off or push him out the door. He fiddled with the bottom of his shirt and watched Derek watch his hands and suddenly Stiles felt ridiculous. He dropped his hands and stood up straight and opened his mouth, but Derek beat him too it.

“You’re not nothing, Stiles: Far from it actually. You just… get under my skin and you know exactly what to say to piss me off like no one else, but I shouldn’t have said that –any of it.”

Stiles just stares at Derek, who starts to tense with each passing second that Stiles doesn’t say anything. Stiles eventually reaches up and pinches his arm and Derek glares at him. It’s so familiar that it makes Stiles laugh and Derek’s glare looks permanent – forever stuck on his face due to Stiles’ inability to withhold his inappropriate reactions in cases of serious conversations.

“You do realize that’s like the longest thing you’ve ever said to me right? I mean, come one Derek that’s a little funny.” Stiles folds his arms across his chest and slouches back against the counter, feeling a little less on edge.

“At least I’m trying, which is more than I can say for you,” Derek growls and like that – Stiles is wound tighter than he was before.

“Hey, all I’ve done is try with you Derek. I feel like that’s all I’ve done since I met you! Try to figure out what’s eating people in Beacon Hills. Try not to get killed by crazy alpha werewolves and enslaved reptiles. Try to work with a group of confused and damaged individuals who basically have no clue what they’re doing. Try to work past a sourwolf’s intense self-security system to build a semi-stable relationship that won’t blow up in my face when I start to really like said sourwolf!”

During his rant Stiles pushed himself away from the counter and into Derek’s personal space without even noticing it. It wasn’t until he stopped talking that Stiles realized just how close the two of them were and he quickly took a step back if only to protect his sanity a little longer.

To any outsider it would appear that Derek was unaffected by Stiles’ words, but Stiles could tell he was getting somewhere by the way Derek’s mouth softened ever so slightly and his eyebrows relaxed so they were no longer screaming ‘death to the puny human’.

“And look, I know I said my fair share of mean shit last time, but you were pushing me and I felt trapped and I don’t really have a filter. Difference is I said what I said out of some stupid self-defense that I didn’t really put much thought into. I know it’s a lousy excuse, but I didn’t set out to hurt you and you did. You knew exactly what to say to make me stop: You knew exactly where to hit me. You sank my fucking battleship Derek.”

The right corner of Derek’s lips twitched upward and in spite of himself, Stiles found himself smiling a little.

“I sunk your battleship, really Stiles?”

“Hey, that was really cleaver. You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles relaxed – feeling like the bomb had been defused in time to salvage whatever it was they were. An easy hush fell over them like a familiar blanket, well-worn and patched up with different colored fabrics.

Stiles was afraid of tearing the peace they had reached with his voice. He didn’t even want to move, but he couldn’t leave anything left unsaid or any stone unturned. It just wasn’t in his nature to leave a wound un-poked, even if he made it bleed a little. Maybe Derek could read his face and knew more words were coming, because he placed his hands on Stiles’ hips and pulled him closer until their noses almost touched.

“This is a bad idea,” he whispered against Stiles’ lips and brushed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. Stiles let his hands slide up Derek’s chest and stop at his shoulders, which he squeezed in a gesture of comfort.

“Probably. I mean, we’re both assholes and have a list of issues miles long, and there’s no telling how many fights we’re going to have where we hurt each other and I spend the night at Scott’s and he curses your name to high Heaven and you beat your pups up during training because you’re a jerk like that. Days will go by and eventually you’ll cave first and crawl through my window into my bed and we’ll have amazing make-up sex only to go through the vicious cycle a couple months later.”

“If this is your way of convincing me, you’re doing it all wrong.”

Stiles laughed and laid his forehead against Derek’s before closing his eyes and sighing. Derek’s body heat crept under his skin and Stiles knew he didn’t want to be cold the rest of his life. Contrary to what the pack thought, there was much more to Derek than dark clothing and brooding. Stiles had seen through the cracks a few times and wanted nothing more than to take a sledgehammer to those walls Derek had put up after the fire.

“Look, I know you’re not gonna open up to me and expose all those dark things you keep locked up in one day. I’m just asking that you give it more time than that. As many reasons as there are to not try this thing between us, I can give you a reason to give it a shot.”

Derek tilts his head to the side as if he’s considering what Stiles said, but the curl of his lips give him away. Stiles hits his shoulder and grins, “Don’t try and pretend like you weren’t gonna ask me to come back last night. I already know you can’t live without my sparkling wit and good looks.”

Derek growls and Stiles rolls his eyes and then they’re kissing.

It’s not soft like the first time when Stiles seized his courage and kissed Derek over a dusty old book written in Latin and it’s not hard like the last time when Derek shoved Stiles against his door before jumping out the window with a casual brush off tossed over his shoulder.

It’s not careful or brutal, but slow and assured – like they have all the time in the world to explore each other’s mouths. It feels like an answer to the question they’d been asking themselves since they started this step in their relationship months ago.

Stiles curls his fingers in Derek’s hair and Derek’s hands slip under Stiles’ shirt to trace patterns across his soft skin. When they break away to breathe, Stiles nips at Derek’s bottom lip and Derek chases Stiles’ tongue back into his mouth – groaning when Stiles pushes his body flush against his. They continued kissing, until they heard a knock at the front door and Stiles grumbled when Derek pulled away.

“It’s Scott,” he says and Stiles mentally curses his best friend into the deepest pits of the Earth when Derek pulls away reluctantly.

“We’re supposed to have a post break-up horror movie marathon,” Stiles explains after he yells at Scott that he’ll be there in a minute.

Derek raises an eyebrow at that and Stiles sticks his tongue out at him because he is the picture of maturity. Derek snorts and leans down to suck on Stiles’ tongue which is cheating in so many ways. Stiles moans and his knees go a little weak. Derek tires not to look smug when he releases Stiles’ tongue and brushes his lips against Stiles’ cheek.

“I hate you so much,” Stiles mutters, but he buries his face into Derek’s neck to give him a quick kiss before pulling away.

“No you don’t,” Derek breathes and Stiles doesn’t try to hide his answering grin when he pulls back to look at the content look on Derek’s face. Stiles vows to bring out that gentle tone in Derek’s voice more often when they’re alone.

“No, I don’t.”

Derek kisses Stiles one last time before slipping out the back door. Stiles stands in the kitchen for a few seconds, savoring his morning, before rushing to get the door for Scott before he broke it down.

“Dude, what took you so long?” Scott whines as he rushes past Stiles to put the bags of junk food and movies on the sofa in the kitchen. Before Stiles can reply, Scott pauses and sniffs the air. He wrinkles his nose and turns to face Stiles.

“Dude… is this a post get-back-together horror movie marathon now?”

Stiles chuckles and nods and Scott can’t help but beam at how happy Stiles looks.

“Okay then, but if Derek breaks your heart again I’m gonna key his car,” Scott says, dutifully filling his role as best friend.

“Cool and I’ll slash his tires too. It’ll be like that Carrie Underwood song – only more intense because of werewolves,” Stiles replies pushing his shoulder into Scott’s in thanks. Scott repeats the gesture, saying ‘no problem’ before popping the first _Saw_ movie into the DVD player and Stiles heads into the kitchen to make popcorn.

Their movie marathon didn’t last the whole weekend; Scott claimed that he didn’t need to see the rebirth of his and Derek’s epic romance and headed home Saturday afternoon. If Stiles got congratulatory texts from his friends that night, he tried not to laugh too hard – knowing full well Scott and Isaac probably texted each other the news at the same time and then proceeded to tell Lydia and the others.

Derek crawls through his window when Stiles is watching _The Howling_ and after grumbling under his breath about Stiles’ choice in movies; he gently shoved Stiles over and settled into bed to watch the rest of the movie. Stiles drifted off against Derek’s chest pondering over the hurdles they had yet to overcome. At the moment however, Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to care. As Derek’s arms tightened around him, Stiles knew they would figure it out one day at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate endings with a freakin' passion. Some times they don't give me trouble and other times they try to kick my ass. I wasn't in a angsty mood today so I had to get Stiles and Derek back together and of course I needed some precious Scott. I could have really dragged this out and made them both work for the relationship, but I'm feeling kind of lazy today and I have a few other fic ideas bouncing in my head, thus making it hard to concentrate on this one. Oh well, what's done is done and I'm okay with the end result.
> 
> I really need to thank all of you who left kudos and commented on the first chapter. You all were my driving force to finish this fic, so thank you so much for your support. Hopefully I'll keep churning out fics you will enjoy.


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